Midnight Blues
by matteiwachan
Summary: I lift my head from the pillows, from his chest, to stare up into large cornflower blue eyes. I am greeted with a wide, arrogant smile. "You got your wish. Congratulations." Sitting up, I shake my hair out. It's grown so long. "Shut up, usuratonkachi." SasuNaruSasu/AU/For the Depressed


**Author's Note: So I made this at nine o, clock at night for no real reason at all other than I felt the need to. I haven't written fanfiction in so long that it feels strange to even be making one of these author notes. I guess, if I have to say anything, it's that I hope you take something away from this short fic, and that it inspires you to want to write again. Be safe tonight.**

**Much love,**

**~Charity the Fox**

When you lose someone you love, nothing is the same again. The sound of music, the feel of laying in bed in the still of the night, the touch of another human being...nothing. Some days I'll find myself staring into the foggy bathroom mirror in the morning, gazing into my own lifeless gray-black eyes, wondering how things would be if I'd done things differently, if I'd just given him a call, if I'd told him I loved him one last time.

I've dragged pristine razors into my wrists, a cowardice action that I'd never dreamed of doing. I've chugged ten pills at a time, twice a day, in hopes of dying...maybe seeing him again.

Life isn't supposed to hurt this bad. No one is supposed to wake up every morning wishing they were dead. But it does, and people do, and I don't know how to cope.

Maybe I should take up writing again? Maybe I could write another hit novel before I go cold turkey and swallow a silver bullet? Or perhaps I should visit a chapel, confess my sins to a pastor?

Nah. I don't believe in a God anymore. Gods are supposed to want the best for their people. Gods are supposed to want heaven on Earth, or some shit like that. Gods don't take the best people away, snatch them right out of your life, and then tell you to deal without them.

Slamming the medicine cabinet shut with a force that sends vibrations throughout it's metal frame, I pry open my bottle of Zzz Quil sleeping pills, and pop ten: dry.

From the bedroom, there's a stirring sound: sheets tumbling over sheets before they hit the hardwood floors with a plushy pop.

My heart beats faster. My hands clench into fists.

It's taking longer and longer for the pills to have any affect on me. For a moment, I fear my body has built up an immunity to them, that I am too tolerant, that I'm now stuck between a hard place and a rock. If I take any more than I normally do, I might actually die; a hard place. If I stop taking them altogether, I might go into withdrawal and then everyone will know why I've been missing work, about why I've been missing from their lives these past few weeks; a rock.

Sighing, I shuffle out of the steamy bathroom, flicking off the bright light as I go. This makes the master bedroom pitch black now. Only the pale moonlight streams in through the windows and splays onto the king sized bed that is full of pillows, yet missing the expensive Indian covers that _he _was requested.

In a room where only my tired breathing can be heard, I swear I hear him moan my name, just as weary, "Sas'ke..."

A single tear slips from the corner of my left eye and trails pathetically down my cheek. Hastily, I wipe it away. I hate crying. But the damage is done. My heart squeezes longingly. A lump the size of fucking Mars fills my throat.

What am I going to do? How can I continue living this way?

"Sas'ke," the voice comes again...harsh, but familiar and soothing.

In the pale moonlight, the sun-kissed, briefs-clad body sits up in the large bed, and reaches for me. I feel different. "Come to bed." And so I do.

Crawling into the emptiness, wrapping my arms around someone that isn't even there, I bury my face in the pillows that still smell like him, that I can still use as him.

"Sasuke," the voice says, stronger this time. "Why are you sad?"

"Fuck you," I hiss before thinking. It's his fault that I'm feeling this way. It's all his damned fault. "_You_ left _me_, remember?"

A firm hand comes and rest on my back. The long fingers rub in lazy circles in the crease of my back, along my spine which protrudes more than normal these days. "You've always been so dramatic," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice now. That _ass_.

I want to snap at him, say something witty, but, all of a sudden, my body goes all light and fluffy. I can't feel my toes...or my hands for that matter.

"What, teme? Are you scared that something bad might have happened?"

I lift my head from the pillows, from his chest, to stare up into large cornflower blue eyes. I am greeted with a wide, arrogant smile.

"You got your wish. Congratulations."

Sitting up, I shake my hair out. It's grown so long. "Shut up, usuratonkachi."

**F+R**


End file.
